


Bad Obsession

by Mrs_Dark_Knight



Category: Guns N' Roses, Hard Rock RPF
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-15 04:08:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7207154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_Dark_Knight/pseuds/Mrs_Dark_Knight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Axl struggles to deal with his "obsession".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta'd guys, all mistakes are my own. I'm sorry i suck ಥ_ಥ

Blue eyes narrowed in a glare aimed at the brunette sitting across from him.

“It’s not fucking funny.”

Izzy just laughed harder and swipes at the tears clinging to his dark lashes. “I’m sorry Axl, it’s just that...” his sentence trails off into giggles.

The redhead rolled his eyes, lips quirking a little. _Leave it to that little airhead to make a joke out of a perfectly serious matter, and why are they even best friends again?_ “I am being perfectly serious.”

The brunette carefully schooled his expression, reclining against the sofa and stared at the man sitting on the other end. “So lemme get this straight,” he begun, trying to keep his voice from rising in pitch at the incredulity of the situation. “You think you’re addicted to Slash’s dick?” The sentence wasn’t even complete before he started cackling again; Axl tossed a cushion from the sofa at his head, pouting a bit.

“It’s not a fucking joke Izzy,” he whined, “know how I said ‘Mr Brownstone’ can be about anything you’re addicted to? He’s-well his dick- is my Mr. Brownstone.” He corrected himself at the last second, hoping Izzy didn’t notice that slip up.

“Awww, that’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard you say.” He cooed, dodging another pillow. “Ok, seriously, why is this a problem exactly? Isn’t he your boyfriend or whatever?”

Axl’s eyes widened as he glanced around in shock, needlessly worried someone might hear. The two were sitting in the living room of Axl’s home, drinking and discussing the redhead’s “problematic love life” (his own words). No one else was there, Steven and Duff had gone out clubbing at around 10 and Slash had muttered something about going to hang out at Teddy’s for a while.

“Izzy, he’s not my boyfriend, we’re friends who fuck.” He murmured, avoiding the brunette’s gaze, “that’s it. No feelings involved.” The words fell flat in the silence between them, convincing no one.

“Uhh... ok then, sure.” Izzy reached for his glass of scotch, too sober to begin to deal with Axl’s “truths”. He wondered who came up with that rule, Axl or Slash- the answer was obvious. “Even so, what’s the problem? So what if you like his dick? You’re fuckin’ him aren’t you?”

Axl gripped Izzy’s elbow, leaning further into his personal space and enunciating slowly, “Jeff. I don’t like it, I’m addicted to it. It’s becoming a problem.” He watched, puzzled, as Izzy’s body begun to tremble. He realized shortly after that the fucker was laughing silently at him. “Izzy!” he groaned, smacking weakly at his arm.

“Ok Axl. Ok I’m sorry; I just needed to- yeah ok.” He said, breathing heavily, “Uhm... explain this shit to me.”

Axl exhaled, relaxing his grip; glad Izzy was finally taking him somewhat seriously. “Man, It’s a pain in the ass,” they both chuckled shortly at that, “I can’t stop thinking about him and it’s fuckin’ crazy.” Izzy’s eyes narrow at that- _him?_ \- but he doesn’t correct the redhead. “Remember that gig at Warfield a few nights back?” he waited for Izzy’s nod, “I was halfway through ‘Nightrain’ when I turned around and glanced at him, ya know I’m kinda always checking on everyone while I prance around up there, I look at him doin’ his thing with his guitar and- and his... fuckin’ hips, and I completely fuck up the lyrics! All I could think about was him fucking me. Right there. On the stage in front of everyone.”

Izzy’s eyes widen in realization, _oh, so that’s what happened._ The whole band had watched confused as Axl, who was perfectly sober, seemed to forget himself for a while, stumbling over the lyrics and pausing his gyrating- only getting back into the groove of things after they’d gotten ‘round to the chorus. He had disappeared after the show, turning up much later looking suspiciously well-fucked. He couldn’t stop the grin from spreading on his face.

Axl sighed, grabbing the brunette’s glass of scotch and downing it. “And that’s not even the worst of it,” he mutters, forcing Izzy to strain to hear the words. “I think about him too much, I can’t control it- _shit_ \- you remember that interview with Howard Buttface? He asked Slash some stupid question and while he was answering I spaced out staring at him man,” his words were slurring now as the liquor started to set in, filter completely gone, “he just looked so fucking... _radiant_ , talking about his snakes of all things Izz, all bright-eyed and... and...” _Beautiful_ , his brain eagerly supplied, the fucking traitor.

Izzy’s breath caught, Axl’s eyes were drooping now and his cheeks flushed, head tilted back and body completely relaxed- vulnerable and unguarded- in a way he only was with a few people. _He isn’t even pretending to talk about sex anymore_.

“He has this way about him, ya know? Especially things he’s passionate about, starts smilin’ bright enough to rival the fuckin’ sun,” he drawled, accent thickening as he gets drunker. Izzy gently removes the glass from his hand and lowers it unto the coffee table. “Even when he’s not near me, can’t stop thinkin’ about him Izz, fuckin’ obsessed. I want to keep him, get jealous all the time about him fucking some other chick.” _Because he should be mine,_ he carefully doesn’t say.

 “Think I might...” Axl trailed off, breathing shallowly, shifting from Izzy’s shoulder and staring up at him with wide eyes- looking vulnerable and lost.

“What’s wrong wi’ me?” he hissed, “can’t get attached, to him... what if-” he cut himself off, searching Izzy’s dark eyes frantically for answers. He came to Izzy expecting the laughter and jokes- and fine, he was ok with that- hoping his friend would reassure him, say he’d get over it, he’d find someone else to warm his bed and it was something he could kick. Izzy was currently doing none of those things, and it scared him shitless though he tried not to let on.

The brunette stared gravely his friend, and pondered the best way to break it to him. He sure wasn’t laughing anymore, because now it was clear that his emotionally constipated friend was very much emotionally attached to Slash. And he was clearly terrified. He considered his options:

‘ _Err... Sweetheart, you’re not addicted to his dick, you’re addicted to him.’_

_‘Honey, you don’t wanna share his dick, attention or affection. Guess why?’_

_‘You stare at him like he hung up the stars and the sun.’_

_‘Surprise! You’re in love.’_

_‘You’re in denial about this no emotions thing.’_

He says none of these things, he instead smiles wanly and nudges his friend’s shoulder, “don’t worry about it, it’ll sort itself out.” And wasn’t that what they said about true love?

Axl’s shoulders slumped with relief, yeah, it’d work out.

\----------------------

Slash came home a few hours later while Axl was showering, bringing with him an array of noises. The sound of his Doc Martens pounding heavily against the tiles, the stereo- which he had switched on as soon as he came in, and the domestic sounds of plates and spoons being shifted around in the kitchen.  He appeared moments later with a giant bowl of cereal and sprawled on the couch, head bobbing to some noisy punk track he was playing.

“What the fuck are you eating?” Axl queried, entering the room fresh from his shower and peering over Slash’s shoulder at the train wreck in his bowl.

“Cereal.” He replied, twisting to grin fondly at his Ayatollah. Axl soldiered on, pretending that grin didn’t do things to his stomach.

“Yes, Slash, but why does it look so... alien?”

The guitarist chuckled, curls flying as he shook his head, “I mixed all my favorites.” The redhead nodded like this made perfect sense.

“Ok.”  He grabbed a beer and plopped next to Slash on the sofa, sitting as close to him as possible without seeming weird. He closed his eyes, smiling at the sounds of Slash fidgeting against the sofa or dancing or whatever he calls it, humming along with the guitar riff. He heard the sudden clank of Slash’s bowl on the coffee table and his eyes are barely open before strong hands are tugging at him.

“Missed you, Rosie.” The guitarist mumbled before capturing Axl’s lips in a searing kiss. The vocalist wants to laugh and remind Slash that they had seen each other a few hours ago, but he knows exactly what he meant. He shifts so he’s straddling Slash’s thighs and gives himself over wholeheartedly. He had lied earlier when he told Izzy he was addicted to Slash’s dick (and only that); this... _this_ was another thing. Slash kissed like he did everything else, passionately, single-mindedly, licking into Axl’s mouth like it’s his duty to attempt to unravel him completely with just his tongue.

Izzy came downstairs, took one look at the lovesick idiots on the couch and rolled his eyes. Typical. He watched them silently for a bit and wondered if Axl realized he leaned into Slash’s every touch and how reverently he touched him. _No emotions, my ass._

“I’m going out to meet up the others,” he called as he shrugged on his jacket, not surprised when no one answered. “I’ll be back in the morning or something.” A quick glance at the clock hanging in the living room confirmed it was in fact already morning.

Slash pulled himself away for long enough to glance at Izzy, confused. “Oh hey man, when did you get here?” Axl made a sound of annoyance because, _why the fuck were they stopping_?

Izzy shook his head in awe, “You two are fucking impossible. I’m leaving now, be back by 6am or whenever.” He left before he got a reply.

The redhead tugged at Slash’s curls to get his attention, “why are we stoppin’?”

Slash grinned wolfishly, pecking his swollen lips, “we can continue upstairs.”

Axl nodded eagerly, squealing when he was lifted and carried into his room, and ok that was kinda hot and he doesn’t need _more_ things to feed his little obsession. Slash had fucked him the way only Slash could, drawing sounds and confessions out of Axl that he had never told anyone and he’d never repeat. Luckily, they had the house to themselves, ‘cause the boys would not be pleased with Axl’s fucked out moans he was trying to smother with the back of his hand.

“Good?”

Axl wanted to laugh in incredulity at the question and retort ‘yes Slash, obviously since I’m riding your dick and moaning like a paid whore’. All that forced its way out was some garbled moans and _Slash_.

Slash chuckled, the sound travelling through Axl’s entire being and yes, that was _another_ thing he was becoming obsessed with. The guitarist’s curls were spread across the pillow, lips kiss-swollen, brown eyes filled with adoration, “ _Fuck_. Axl, you’re beautiful. Always so beautiful.”  The redhead’s heart clenched and he shook his head wildly, not ready to accept that

“Wuh-?”

“Nothing. Just shut up and fuck me.”

The brunette flipped them, bending Axl almost in half and fucking him as hard as he begged, coming shortly after the redhead had screamed through his own orgasm, muscles milking his cock.

They lay tangled together, Axl’s head on Slash’s chest, absently fiddling with the curls he could reach.

“We got a gig tomorrow.” he said, just to break the silence.

“Yeah,” Axl replied, waiting expectantly for the real question. Knowing exactly what it was and exactly what his answer would be.

“Stay?” he whispered, voice soft and vulnerable and fuck if Axl knew how to say no to that.

 _I’m sure this isn’t a part of the deal, do your fucks stay to cuddle often?_ , his mind hisses. The redhead squeezed his eyes shut, swallowing before he replied, voice barely audible, “always.”

He was fucking screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayatollah- Slash's nickname for Axl for real.  
> It was all fun and games, till he started taking it too seriously lol.


	2. Chapter 2

The band was lounging in the VIP at Michelle’s a few hours after the show, surrounding by girls, boozin’ and smoking as usual. Axl wasn’t really into it, shooting charming grins at strippers who were trying to get his attention and dismissing them with a wave- he wasn’t in the mood for it. _I wonder why that is, does it have anything to do with Mr. Tall-Dark-and-handsome next to you?_ Axl shrugged off the thought.

“Rosiiiiiie!” Steven crowed, stumbling over with Izzy, looking bright-eyed and definitely stoned. “Come dance with us, the girls want to meet you.” He gestured to the group of brunettes in the far corner of the club who giggled and wiggled their fingers at him.

“I’m good right here,” he replied, adding when Stevie’s face fell, “besides, who’s gonna look out for the idiot over there?” They all turned to look at Slash who was halfway through his second (third?) bottle of Jack. He was sprawled comfortably on the couch, feet raised on the table before him. He grinned slowly when his eyes finally focused on the men staring at him.

“’lo my lovelies, waana drink?”He slurred, pouting when no one took him up on his offer. “Fine, more for me.”

Izzy frowned, leaning towards Axl to whisper, “Isn’t he drinking a little too much?”

“Aren’t you snorting a little too much coke?” he snapped, irritated and defensive for some reason. The brunette stumbled back, a bit hurt, it didn’t last long, and his eyes became flat and spaced out again under the effects of the dope. Axl sighed, Izzy was right, Slash had a very real problem and the vocalist had no idea how to deal with it. It scared him.

Duff broke the awkward silence by ambling over with a group of giggling girls, “Boys, meet the ladies, ladies, these are the boys.”

“Hey Guys,” they said, almost in unison, tittering and covering their red lips with their palms. Axl rolled his eyes in irritation, glaring daggers as they quickly made themselves comfortable, pairing off with each of the boys.

“Hey, I’m Amanda,” a soft voice says right next to his ear. He turned to see a blonde in the shortest mini-skirt he’s ever had the pleasure of seeing perched on the armrest of the couch.

If someone brushed her in passing, she’d probably keel over. “You really shouldn’t sit there,” he chided, biting back a groan of annoyance when she giggled and wiggled her way into his lap. That’s _not_ what he meant.

Her perfume was something flowery and it seemed to add to his irritation, _Slash doesn’t smell like this,_ his mind supplied and how did it even get to that? Obsessing over his smell, the smell of whiskey, cigars, leather and that ridiculous coconut hair wash he used.

“I’m a big fan of the band,” she drawled, tracing the Gn’R tattoo on his arm, fluttering her lashes at him in a way that should’ve been sexy but just seemed to piss him off.

“That ‘so?” he muttered, already losing interest in the conversation and _God_ what was happening? If this had been a few months ago he would’ve already had her pressed up against some wall while he fucked her senseless, now he just felt slight annoyance at her presence.

His eyes drifted to Slash against his will, he was giggling at something the chick next to him had whispered. His stomach clenched with jealousy as he watched her play with his curls, lips inching dangerously closer. He turned away at the last second, meeting Izzy’s piercing gaze. He sighed and looked away, Slash could fuck who he wanted and he had no right to stop him.

“So whaddya say, stud?”

Apparently Ana- _(what was her name, Anaconda?)_ was still talking. “Huh?”

She giggled, somehow not put out by Axl’s blatant disregard for her, “I said, how about, we go outside, and I suck you off?”

The redhead chanced another glance at Slash, who was now staring straight at him, completely ignoring the girl, concern written on his face. “You ok, Rosie?” And that’s what convinced him to do it, one sentence that sounded dangerously too caring and sweet, filled with emotion that was too real.

He flashed Slash a wicked grin and winked, lying through his teeth “never been better.” He shifted, giving the girl a gentle shove to her feet, “you said something about an offer, sweetheart?” The girl squealed and grabbed his hand, yanking him up and leading him towards the back of the club. He could feel the stares of his friends on his back, one particularly heavy, but he didn’t look back, he needed to do this- to _prove_ this.

The alley was dark and almost empty; she pushed him against a wall and dropped to her knees, wasting no time in zipping him down and fishing him out of his jeans. Her soft _\- too small_ \- hands closed around his soft member, stroking him and lapping at his shaft. He leaned back, closing his eyes, mind filled with thoughts of dark skin and wild hair and slow sincere smiles. He begun to harden, she dipped her tongue into his slit sending a jolt of pleasure through him. Slash always did that, memories of him smiling coyly from between the redhead’s legs before taking him deep into the tight wet heat of his mouth resurfaced.

Ana (Slash?) was sucking him for real now, reaching into his pants with warm _\- still too small_ \- hands to fondle his balls. She gagged when he hit the back of her throat ( _Slash wouldn’t have_ ), pulling back a bit to focus on the head. Axl’s hands were clenched at his sides; he didn’t touch her hair the way he’d like, because that would remind him of whom he was with. It went on like this for an embarrassingly short while, Axl retreating to his thoughts of Slash, while she worked him, moaning softly. He spilled in her mouth, biting his lip hard to hold back the name that wanted to tumble out. She swallowed, wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and smiled as he tucked himself back in, avoiding her eyes, afraid she would somehow see his sinful thoughts.

“Thanks stud, you got a nice cock.” Her voice was hoarse and he watched her saunter towards the door, thankful she hadn’t asked for anything in return.

Axl stood out there in the chilly night air for a while, debating reentering the club, shoulders slumped in shame. _This didn’t prove shit;_ he thought miserably, _just proved that I’m in **deeper** shit than I thought._

He stood out there till Steven came stumbling out to tell him they are leaving, he nodded, gathering himself before he turns to go.

\------------------------------------------------

Breakfast with the boys was always something to behold. Slash and Steven were absent since they were still sleeping through their hangovers. Izzy was relaying Axl’s problems- with his permission- to Duff who was gaping at him, mouth filled with bits of un-chewed pancakes.

“So lemme get this straight,” he said after he swallowed, “he’s your _Mr. Brownstone_?” His eyes sparkled with mirth and the vocalist itched to reach across the table and smack him with something.

“Basically.” He groused, drowning his pancakes in syrup.

“You used to do a little, but a little wouldn’t do it? So the little got more and-” he crooned, dodging the punch aimed at his shoulder and bursting into giggles.

“Wait, when did this even start?” he queried, looking from Izzy to Axl as he eagerly awaited the answer.

“Few months ago, in Indianapolis,” The brunette chirps, “backstage, after the show. Come think of it, isn't it like a year now?” The blonde’s mouth formed a perfect ‘o’, recalling the events of the night.

“Wait a fuckin’ minute, that’s where you ran off to?” he yelled gleefully, “did you fuck in the dressing room?” The redhead’s silence was all the confirmation he needed; he burst into cackles, earning him an elbow to the ribs from Axl.

They finished breakfast, leaving the other’s food on the table while Izzy left the room to go check on Steven and Slash.

Duff quickly pulled him aside.

“You realize you’re in love with him, right?” His voice was hushed, and his eyes observed Axl’s countenance for a reaction. The alley last night comes back to haunt him and even without saying it, he knew it was true.

Duff nodded, appeased by whatever he saw, “You realize he loves you right?”

The redhead snorted, rolling his eyes, “he... he’s somewhat _fond_.”

The blonde laughed at that, a bitter sound, _the little shit was so nonchalant about it_. “Understatement of the year man. Question is, what are you gonna do about it?”

The redhead searched the blonde’s face, _what’s it to you Duff? Why do you care?_ He closed his eyes, breathing deeply before he replied, “I’m gonna break it off.”

The silence was deafening.

A steely grip closed around his wrist forcing him to open his eyes. The blonde’s face hardened and his eyes panicked. Realization dawned on the vocalist. _So that was it. He was ass over heels for Slash too._ Axl wanted to laugh hysterically at the irony of it all.

“Are you actually this stupid, or does it take practice?” Duff hissed, “If you think for one fuckin’ second that I’m gonna let you hurt him like you hurt everyo-”

That hit dangerously close to home. _They all say that_. The redhead pushed him back roughly, rage spiking, “Fuck do you care? You don’t know shit Duff. I’m doing this so he _won’t_ get hurt-” he cut off sharply as the others entered the room, groaning and stretching. Duff’s sharp gaze said it all, _this conversation wasn’t over._

“Mornin’ bitches,” Slash husked, glancing at the two in the corner with a sleepy grin, “something up?”

“Nothing at all.” Duff replied, voice going soft as he smiled shyly at the guitarist. Axl cursed himself for not having noticed something so obvious before. “Surprised you didn’t drink yourself into a coma.” He chuckled as Slash rubbed his neck sheepishly, peering up from under ridiculously long lashes. Axl had never wanted to throttle the blonde more in his life.

“I’m tryna cut back, I swear.” He murmured, accepting the cup of coffee Izzy pushes into his hand. “What’re we doing today?”

The men stared at each other, shrugging.

“It’s kinda weird to have free days after all that work on Illusion.” Steven mused, speaking softly to avoid intensifying his migraine.

“I’m going to the bookstore, need some air.” Axl said, staring at Duff in defiance, almost daring him to follow.

“Can I come with?” Slash chirped, “I’ve been dying to get out.”

“If you want.” He reluctantly replied, still eyeing Duff. “What about you _Mark_?” The tension in the air thickened considerably.

The blonde in question smiled tightly, avoiding the clear challenge. “Maybe next time _William_ ,” he spat, thrilling darkly at the way Axl’s jaw twitched. He knew how much he hated that name, reminded him too much of his no-good father.

“Riiiiight, okay then, good talk everyone.” Izzy cut in, looking from Duff to Axl, the redhead looked like he was barely holding back his rage and that was bad news for everyone. “So see you two later then?”

Axl nodded almost imperceptibly, walking stiffly out of the kitchen, leaving a confused Slash to catch up.

“What the _fuck_ was that Duff?” Izzy hissed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GnR performed in Indianapolis on April 7, 1990.  
> It was Steven's last show :(


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> er.. guys... im realizing i didn't upload a huge part of this chapter... while going through the completed story  
> i am soooo sorry.. er.. i fixed it :)

The drive was quiet; Axl was silently preparing his ‘this-can’t-continue’ speech in his head while Slash tried to puzzle out what the fuck Axl’s eye color was. _Blue-ish, but kinda grey, but also kinda green? Was this kid magic?_ He shook his head, smiling at the thought, Axl was basically magic, he moved like it, sung like it, sure as fuck looked like it, and he made love like it.

 “Slash... we need to talk.”

The guitarist glanced at Axl, brushing his curls from his forehead with a grin, “Yeah we do.”

Axl blinked, taken aback, _was_ _Slash thinking of breaking it off too?_ He couldn’t stop the curl of disappointment in his stomach, even if this was for the best.

 “Oh yeah?” he choked, voice wavering. He turned his attention to the window next to him, staring blankly outside to distract himself. “What about?”

Slash hummed, tapping out a rhythm on the steering wheel as he thought about it. “Well I’ve been wondering...” Axl held his breath, “what color are your eyes?”

The redhead snorted, unbalanced by his question, “Whuh-?”

“Green or grey? Or blue? Do they change colors?” the guitarist ploughed on, barely noticing that said eyes were staring at him in shock. “What?”

The redhead managed to get out “You’re an idiot” before bursting into laughter. _My eyes huh? Of all the things to ask about._ Slash smiled at him, “Hey man, it’s a fair question.”

“Well since you asked so nicely, Blue, technically,” he answered, still reeling, “though Ma always did say they changed colors and that I was a Gypsy.”

Slash hummed thoughtfully, “Gyp.”

“What?”

“Gyp, that’s your new nickname.”

Axl rolled his eyes, “if anyone hears you calling me that I’ll poison your snakes.”

“Oh yeah?” Slash chuckled, “you’re too fucking scared to go near them unless it’s for a shoot, and even then-”

“Fucking try me!” he shot back, smiling at the guitarist’s laughter; they both knew the threat was as empty as they come.

By the time Slash parked in front of the bookstore, they both were bickering like an old couple.”

“Of all the fucking pets you could have Slash, snakes?!” he yelled, sauntering off without a backward glance.

“There is nothing wrong with my snakes!” the guitarist huffed, matching his stride, “they may seem scary, but they’re cute as fuck once you get used to-” his tirade cut off abruptly.

“What?” He slowed, glancing curiously at the brunette, “realized I’m right and you’re fucking crazy?”

Slash grinned widely, “Not at all, I was just thinking snakes are a lot like you, huh?”

The redhead blinked, nonplussed, before Slash’s words came back to him. ‘ _Scary but cute as fuck’? The motherfucker_. He fought the flush that rose to his face and stomped away leaving the brunette chortling behind him.

The bookstore was fairly empty today, with only a few people surfing. Both men greet the lady behind the counter with warm smiles.

“Hey boys, nice to see ya stoppin’ by again,” she drawled, waving enthusiastically, “we’ve got new stuff you’d like Axl.” She waved him to the stack of new arrivals stacked neatly on the table next to her.

“Nothing for me, Sheryl?” Slash asked, watching as the red head almost tripped over himself in his rush to said books.

“New comics came yesterday, uhm that ‘Justice League’ stuff you like.” She pointed to a shelf on the far left which was indeed freshly stocked.

“Sweet.”

“Such a child.” Axl murmured, not bothering to look up from his books.

“Whatever, old man.” He stalked over to the shelf, swept his gaze over the shelf and started grabbing various issues.

The minutes passed in comfortable silence, and Slash, satisfied with his haul, head over to Sheryl to check out. When he was done, he glanced over to find Axl staring thoughtfully at two books in his hands.

“What are you doing, Gyp?”

He seemed to startle out of his daze, “don’t call me that, punk. I’m trying to decide on a book.” He held up a copy of ‘Four Seasons’ and ‘The Tommyknockers, to Slash. “Which one?”

The guitarist smiled fondly, “You have a thing for Stephen King, don’t you?”

“He’s good.”

“He’s creepy.”

“Good.” He insists, “So which one?”

“Just buy them both.” The redhead stared at Slash in annoyance, taking a deep breath before he continued.

“I. said. Which. _One_ ”

He huffed in exasperation, “Take Tommyknockers, sounds more fun.”

“Ok, right.” He nodded, then placed said book back on the table.

Slash spluttered in outrage, “Hey! Do you always do the opposite of what I say?”

Axl brushed past him and flipped his long red hair over his shoulder, “Of course,” he teased, winking at Sheryl who was grinning at their antics.

The brunette sighed, _of course he did, the little shit didn’t listen to anyone other than Izzy._

The drive back home was a riot, Axl watched in horror and amusement as Slash sang (badly) to Spice Girls-Wannabe, flipping his hair and snapping his fingers- the whole shebang.

“Holy shit, you stop it right now,” the redhead gasped, “what if someone sees you? Paparazzi or whatever?”

“They’ll realize that I’m the true talent in the band,” he joked, “hell, I should be the vocalist.” The silence stretched for a while before they burst into laughter which increased tenfold when the DJ cut the song short to announce:

“And this next one is from the most dangerous band in the world, Guns N Roses- Welcome to the Jungle.”

“My time to shine!” Slash exclaimed, clearing his throat before his screeching begun. This was gonna be a long drive.

 --------------------

“So what did you wanna talk about in the car?” Slash asked, peering curiously at the redhead lying pliant beside him.

“Huh?” he muttered, barely forming the word. How Slash was even thinking so soon after a brain-melting orgasm was a mystery to him.

“What did you wanna talk about in the car earlier?” he repeated, snuggling closer.

“Slash, how are you forming sentences right now?” he groaned, desperately trying to change the subject, “there’s such a thing as afterglow, let me enjoy it.”

The brunette chuckled, stroking Axl’s silky hair, “you’re talking just fine now, so you can answer me.”

Axl tensed under his touch, “It’s nothing important.” Slash’s hand paused mid-stroke.

“Isn’t it? Cause you just said that in your ‘I’m lying’ voice.” Axl’s breath caught in his throat, _was I always this easy to read? No_ , his mind hissed, _but you allowed him to get close._  He shifted away from the welcome heat of the brunette’s body, ignoring the disappointment that settled heavily on his chest.

“You should go.” He said evenly, hating himself for it.

“Was this what you wanted to talk about? Us?” he felt the bed sink as Slash sat up.

 _There is no fucking us,_ he wanted to shout, _we agreed this was only physical!_

“You should go.” He repeated; lower this time, struggling to keep his rage under control. But underneath the rage was the all-consuming fear, the fear that he’d hurt Slash, like he hurt everyone. The fear that he was too broken. _He deserves someone who’s not fucking psychotic._

The brunette sighed and begun to dress silently, _leave it to Axl to fucking avoid discussing things like a normal adult. Why did I ever think it would happen differently?_

Slash paused, hand raised to the doorknob, “Just answer me this, is it Stephanie?”

The redhead chuckled bitterly, _yeah right, I can’t even fucking think of anyone besides you._ “No.”

 _Oh, just me then_. The guitarist nodded before walking out, slamming the door viciously behind him. Axl’s shoulders slumped as soon as he was alone, “It’s better this way.” He whispered, unable to convince even himself.

Interactions the next day were tense to say the least. Slash moped into his cereal, and drank way more alcohol than usual. Axl smoked his way through two packs of camels and dutifully avoided the guitarist like the plague. It went on like that for days and Izzy hated every moment of it, the tension and awkward silences; Which carried over even to their final warm up show, though they appeared to be fine from the outside, they were barely holding it together up there.

Slash kept to his side of the stage, moving minimally, not bouncing around and interacting with the crowd or his band mates like he usually did. He was drunk off his ass and he knew damn well that Axl was doubly angry because of it, so he kept his head down and hid beneath his hair, too ashamed to face the redhead.

Axl dealt with it the same way he dealt with everything, he bottled up is feelings and nursed them into a blinding rage, when Slash had showed up drunk for the show, he had lashed out cruelly- the first words he had said to him in days.

 _“Are you fucking kidding me? You keep this up and I will fucking kick you out on your ass, ya hear?”_  

Duff had held unto a terrified Slash, glaring angrily up at Axl; if the redhead wasn’t pissed before, the sight of Duff touching Slash the way he had lost the right to made sure of it. Izzy had noted with distress that Axl was about to blow, and possibly beat the shit out of both Duff and Slash (and everyone else). So he held him, while whispering soothing nothings into his ear, held him as he shook with rage, stroking his hair and calming him.

The redhead regained some semblance of control and with a final hate-filled glance at Duff and Slash, who were still huddled together on the couch, he walked away.

Steven had watched the whole ordeal, frozen in fear, _“Christ Izzy, what’s happening to us?”_  The brunette reached out to comfort Steven, who was pale and jittery, he had never seen the full brunt of Axl’s anger, he had _heard_ of it, but to witness the acts of an enraged Axl was another thing altogether.

“I dunno, Popcorn.” He whispered, watching Slash’s shoulders shake, “but I’m gonna fucking fix it.”

And he intended to do just that.

As soon as the show was over, most of the band split up. Popcorn went to crash at a friend’s house; scared he would somehow piss Axl off and be on the receiving end of that rage. Slash invited Duff to his place (he needed someone to drive him home anyway) and left without a parting word to anyone. Izzy was the only one who went home with Axl, squirming uncomfortably through the deathly silent drive back to the redhead’s mansion.

The silence followed them into the house, clinging to them and weighing them down. Izzy considered how to broach the topic:

_‘Hey asshole, what the fuck was that earlier?’_

_‘What the fuck happened with you two?’_

_‘Your squabble is fucking with the band’s chemistry.’_

_‘I’m trying not to punch you in the fucking face right now.’_

Surprisingly, Axl broke the silence first.

“You stayed?” he asked, settling wearily on the couch and squinting at Izzy. “Of course you did.”

The brunette didn’t feel like punching him much anymore, Axl looked rugged, like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Looked even worse now than he did when Stephanie left (taking a hefty sum of money of course).

“I stayed.” He confirmed, cautiously approaching the couch, “wanna guess the reason the others didn’t?”

The redhead grinned in a self-depreciating manner, “You’re looking at him.”

Izzy sighed, plopping on the couch, carefully weighing his next words, “Axl. What the fuck happened tonight?” He already knew of course, he had needled bits of the story out of Duff who had finally spilled Axl’s plans of breaking up with Slash.

He chuckled weakly, “you saw what happened tonight, I did what I do best.”

“And what’s that?”

“I fucking hurt the people I care about,” he said, voice cracking at the end.

Izzy squeezed his eyes shut, shuddering at the pain in Axl’s voice. “What happened.” He repeated, not actually expecting a reply, he started when Axl begun to speak in halting tones.

“I broke it off with Slash, told him to leave a few days ago. It’s for the best.” He paused, rubbing at his eyes, “he thought I went back to _Stephanie_.” He spits her name like a curse, chuckling darkly at the idea of it, “like I can stop thinking about him long enough to be with someone else.”

“For the best? Why do you say that?”

The redhead looked at him like he’d grown a second head, “Because I’m fucking broken, and I fuck up everything.” _Because I’m not worth it._ He said it like it’s something he tells himself time and again, like it’s something he recites in front of his mirror in the morning. “He deserves better than a psychotic, depressed headcase.” _Ooh, let’s not forget bipolar_.

“Who the fuck taught you to speak about yourself like that, huh?” Izzy growled softly, trying to keep his own anger in check.

 _Everyone I’ve loved_. The redhead blinked, caught off-guard, “I-it’s the tru-”

“Stop it.”

He mouth closed with an audible click.

“Listen, we’re all broken. All of us are fucked up. We all mess up. And yeah, sometimes I wanna punch you in your perfect face.” Axl choked out a small laugh at this. “But you’re also an amazing person, you’re the kindest man I know, and you’re disgustingly sweet, funny and most definitely fucking worth it. I don’t know who made you believe all that stuff -because if I did, I’d punch them in the face- but its bullshit.”

The redhead laughed heartily through his tears, “Please, stop punching people in the face.”

“Nuh-uh, I’ll punch everyone in the face if that’s what it takes. Besides, all that other stuff, you’re working on it right?”

Axl assumed the other stuff meant his mental illnesses; he swallowed thickly, “I haven’t missed any appointments with my therapist, and I take their fucking pills, so I guess I am.”

“Well, that’s all that matters, we’re all trying Axl.” _Even me._ He had finally got around to getting help for his little cocaine problem, and he was making progress steadily. _Maybe one day, I won’t need it._

Izzy snorted, “You still show up fucking late for those appointments, don’t you?”

Axl’s body shook with the force of his laughter, “You know me too well. But hey, I’m paying for the time, so I can waste it if I want.” The brunette landed a solid punch on his shoulder, struggling to hold back his own giggles before giving in.

“You’re such a little shit.”

“The one and only.” He announced, falling back unto the sofa. A few more minutes passed before he tentatively spoke, “Hey Izzy. You think he’ll still want to... Maybe he won’t forgive me.”

“Oh no, he will. He’s stupidly in love with you. It’s actually pretty gross.” The redhead kicked him gently in the shin. “Just sayin’, man.”

“He has Duff now,” he whispered, “he might be better off-”

“Will you please just shut up and go get your man tomorrow morning? Duff loves Slash, but not in the way you think.” He mused, “It’s more like you and me.” _Besides, he’s fucking me._

Axl nodded, “Was I the only one who had no idea he had a thing for Curly?”

“Yes.”

“Since when?”

“When was the first time Duff laid eyes on him?” Izzy asked, squinting as he tried to remember. _Was it 83’?_

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. Anyway, I’m gonna crash in one of your guest rooms, night.” Izzy shoved a cushion over Axl’s face before scampering out of his reach. “Oh, by the way, you really scared Popcorn, please do something about it, you’re his favorite.”

“Aww shit.” Axl winced at the thought of Stevie scared, if he hadn’t felt like shit before, he did now. “How scared?”

“He was shaking like a leaf.” Izzy tossed over his shoulder, sauntering up the stairs. He knew he was laying it on a bit thick now, but it was kinda amusing, “I thought the poor thing would keel over and die. You ever seen a scared puppy?”

The redhead groaned into the cushion, “Oh my God, I’m a fucking monster.”

“Goodnight, Punk.”

“You can’t insult me in my own house!” he yelled. The slam of his expensive mahogany door was the only reply he got.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Axl stalled all morning, taking time out to pet his dogs and have a leisurely stroll around his neighborhood. When he finally got around to getting ready and trudged down the stairs, he came face to face with an amused Izzy.

“You know you have to go talk to him eventually right?” he queried, leaning casually in the doorframe.

The redhead sighed, “Do I need to?”

“You two are sorting yourselves out before the first leg of this tour.” He sneered, “I’m not getting stuck with you bitching at each other for eighteen fucking months.”

The vocalist shifted his weight from foot to foot, avoiding the brunette’s gaze. Izzy narrowed his eyes and accessed his friend, “Oh my God, you’re still worried about Duff.”

“He’s still there isn’t he?” he snapped, irritated at being so transparent. He brushed past Izzy and made a fuss over looking for his keys. The brunette watched him move around the living room, cursing silently under his breath.

“First of all, would you have left Slash in the state he was in last night?”

Axl froze, before shaking his head.

“Exactly. Second of all, Duff isn’t gonna make a move on Slash because he’s fucking me and I’ll have his balls for it,” He muttered almost to himself.

The redhead choked on air, spinning around to meet the brunette’s impassive gaze. “And thirdly, your keys are on the coffee table. Now go.”

“Duff is fucking who?” he squeaked, blinking rapidly as he spotted his keys on the coffee table. _How the fuck did I not see that?_ “I thought you were pretty close to er... Stevie?”

“Him too.” Izzy confirmed, chuckling darkly as Axl gaped with his keys dangling loosely in his grip. He shrugged nonchalantly, “It works. Don’t question it.”

“All of you...? Together?” Axl said slowly, as if testing the words out. “And that works ok?”

“It works.” He repeated, noisily opening a packet of skittles while the redhead tracked his every move.

“How long?”

“Since Appetite, fuck you don’t notice anything do you?” Izzy teased, popping skittles into his mouth

“What did I say about insulting me in my own house, young man?”

“Dunno, wasn’t listening,” he replied, “I barely listen to anything you say. So how long are you gonna stall?”

The redhead threw up his hands in defeat. “I’m leaving, be gone when I get back.” He snarled, grabbing the packet of skittles before racing away. Izzy grabbed at him, but the shorter man was too fast.

“You little ginger shit!” Izzy yelled as he watched Axl slip into his Benz from the doorway. He settled for flipping Axl off as he backed out of the driveway. The redhead honked twice, grinning happily. _And just for that, I’m gonna make sure I’m present when he gets back._ He strolled leisurely back into the mansion, making a mental list of things he would fuck with.

\------------------------------

He stalled even more.

He drove aimlessly around town, tapping out a mindless rhythm on the steering wheel. He made a stop at the bakery, picking up red velvet cake that Steven liked, the whole cake of course, because if what Izzy said was anything to go by, he needed to make it up to the kid real quick.

Axl shoved the goods he bought into the passenger seat, and sat in the parking lot for a while, trying to think of something to get Slash.

 _Well, I’m definitely not getting him a fucking snake._ He shuddered at the thought, and settled for a cute wooden carving of a snake, close enough right?

His heart thumped as he got closer to Slash’s house and his palms grew sweaty. “I can’t believe I’m gonna act like a fucking teenager about this!” he growled into the silence of the car, “Oh great, now I’m talking to myself.”

The redhead pulled into Slash’s driveway and parked next to Duff’s car. He glared angrily at it for a few minutes before calming enough to approach the door.

His hand trembled as he rang the doorbell; it had been a while since he had done that. He usually used the extra key, but he felt it was best to wait till he was acknowledged.

A surly looking Duff answered the door. “What the fuck do _you_ want?” he sneered, eyeing the box held tightly in the redhead’s grip, “here to buy forgiveness?”

 _One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten..._ Axl struggled to keep a reign on his temper, he wasn’t here to fight. “Listen, I know I lost my shit last night, but-”

“You have no right coming near him after what you did last night.”

Axl continued counting in his head, grinding his teeth. Duff quickly switched tactics, “All your relationships seem to end in flames, so stay the fuck away-”

So yeah, Axl threw the first punch, a pretty hard one too. But to be fair, he’d counted to ten around three times like his therapist had told him to and it didn’t do shit, so he decided to use his own methods.

The blonde blinked, raising a hand to his bloodied mouth before balling it into a fist and swinging it full force towards Axl’s nose. He managed to tilt his head a bit, but the fist still connected with his cheekbone pretty hard. _That’s probably gonna bruise._

And now, he was pretty pissed off, _because no one hits Axl Rose, at least, not anymore._

He threw the gift aside and pretty much dived at the blonde, connecting with his chest and forcing him to the ground. He was picking up punches, but he barely felt it. He straddled the bassist and landed a pretty good blow on his nose, and fuck, that was probably broken. He couldn’t stop the sadistic grin from spreading on his face even if he wanted to. The blonde groaned in pain and managed to unbalance the redhead, picking up a sharp blow to the ribs in the process. He lashed out blindly, knocking the redhead off him and thrilled at the satisfying thunk of Axl connecting with the wooden floor. _Serves the fucker right._

They were so caught up in their tussle, they failed to hear the footsteps of Slash approaching. That was, until he spoke of course.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” he yelled, “don’t fuckin’ kill each other!” He forced himself between the two men who were wrestling on the floor, hauling them both to their feet, before roughly shoving them apart. “What the fuck are you doing, Duff? Axl?”

“Yeah Axl, what the fuck are you doing here?” Duff spat, panting as he glared at the redhead.

Axl ignored him, staring directly at Slash, “I came here to apologize to Slash.” His gaze snapped back to Duff, “that was until someone decided to be a total dick at the front door.”

“A dick? I was being honest,” he countered, batting the brunette’s hand away from his chest, “you don’t deserve to see him after last night.”

“Shouldn’t you be home with Izzy?” Axl snapped, eyes glittering when Duff paused.

“Both of you shut the fuck up.” Slash snapped, shoving them both away from each other roughly. They had drifted closer throughout their argument.

“But he _hurt_ you, you know how I feel about that!” he whined, “I’m just saying, he fucks up everything, why should this be any d-”

“Duff! Stop it.” The brunette pinched the bridge of his nose, looking about two seconds away from tossing both idiots out. “I appreciate the thought, but you don’t get to decide who I see,” He added softly, wincing as he eyed the blonde’s nose.

“But-”

“You should get that looked at,” he cut in softly.

Duff sighed in defeat, shaking his head before grabbing his car keys from the holder next to the door. “If he hurts you, I swear.”

Slash chuckled; the blonde was always so protective of him. “I can take care of myself, but thanks, for everything.”

“No need, I’d do it all over again.” The blonde smiled tightly, walking out without a backward glance.

Well, that went well.

“I brought you something, but it’s probably broken now.” Axl’s deep voice surprised him, causing him to whirl around with a squeak. He should’ve been pissed, but it was pretty hard to be mad at a face like that. The redhead looked miserable, his right cheek was rapidly bruising, and his hair was a mess; he was staring determinedly at his boots and Slash squashed the urge to laugh- he looked like a kid who got told off by their mum.

“We’ll worry about that later, go sit on the couch while I get some ice for that.” He ordered, almost snickering when the redhead walked dejectedly into the living room, looking like a kicked puppy. _Oh_ _He’s cute, alright_.

Axl sat silently on the couch, staring at the intricate carvings in the ceiling.

“Here.” The brunette shoved an icepack into his hand and watched him press it gingerly to his cheek. “What’s this about an apology?”

The redhead swallowed before replying, “I’m so fucking sorry Slash. I messed up.”

“Yeah.” The brunette struggled appear unaffected, he carefully avoided staring into those baby blues- it’d be game over if he did.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you, I wouldn’t have kicked you out anyway.” He continued, voice wavering. “I’ve been pissed off all week, which is no excuse; I just- I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

Slash sighed, _are we gonna ignore the biggest part of this?_ “It’s ok, I kinda deserved it, and showing up drunk was a shit move.”

“Well, yeah. You _are_ a piece of shit.”

The giggle forced its way out of him _, fuck. Game over._ Soon they were both chuckling, shoulders brushing together. Fuck, he missed this, being close to Slash like this. He could smell the stupid coconut hair wash even though the brunette’s afro was pulled back into a loose ponytail.

They sat there silently for a while, before the silence became too much.

Slash cleared his throat, “So-”

“Wanna hear something cool? I love you. I broke it off because I was being stupid and insecure, which is nothing new. Kiss and make up?”

Oh.

_Oh._

The brunette turned to stare at the redhead, “I’m sorry, what?”

The redhead sighed, lowering the ice pack and turning to glare at Slash, “I said, I fucking love you shithead.” And, ok, only Axl could make a confession sound like an insult. “A lot-”

“I love you too, stupid.”

“Well duh, you make heart eyes at me all the time when you think I’m not l-”

Slash shut him up with a passionate kiss, “why must you be so vexing?”

“Because I love you, and I’m difficult.” He replied, lips brushing Slash’s, “Besides, I’m a redhead, ‘vexing’ is kinda what I do.”

The brunette laugh-sobbed into the redhead’s mouth, nipping at his lower lip for good measure. He pulled Axl closer to him, but the redhead tensed and hissed in pain.

Slash released him completely, scanning his body frantically, “did I hurt you?”

“Calm down, relax. Your giant blonde bodyguard probably bruised my ribs ‘s all.”

“He did what?”

“Well I did punch him first.” Axl conceded, reaching for Slash again, huffing in irritation when he leaned out of his reach.

“We’re not fucking while you’re injured, you brat.”

The redhead pouted and crossed his arms, “Sex would fix me.”

“It would make it worse, actually.”

“Let’s role-play then, you’re the doctor, and you have a magical healing cock. So heal me.” He flashed a charming grin, batting his eyelashes just for effect.

Slash snorted, what was he to do with this one? “Not gonna happen.”

Axl groaned in defeat, “You never let me have any fun.”

“I’ll blow you if you promise to sit still.” He offered, smiling suggestively.

“I will.” He chirped, tone alone suggesting he would do the opposite.

The brunette pretended to think about this for a while, “No. that’s your punishment for being a dick to me.”

The redhead’s lower lip begun to tremble- _actually tremble_ \- and his blue eyes widened ever-so-slightly. “I said I’m sorry.”

Slash laughed. And laughed. And laughed, while an annoyed Axl looked on. “You are a piece of work you know that?” he asked, holding out a hand expectantly, “Gimmie your keys, I’m driving you home.”

“I don’t know why I like you.” Axl snapped, dropping his keys into Slash’s palm. “You keep leaving me with blue balls.”

“I like to think it’s my sparkling personality.”

“Why are we leaving anyway?” he queried as he trailed Slash outside, looking frantically around for the small box he arrived with.

“Remember what happened last time you slept over?”

Axl froze and blanched at the memory, the last time he had stayed he had woken up to a nervous Slash telling him to “stay still” as he eyed the small snake sitting next to Axl’s head. The redhead had lay there paralyzed with fear; even though, according to Slash it was bullshit since the snake would never hurt him. He wasn’t taking that chance again.

Slash grinned at the vocalist’s expression, “I mean, you could stay but, just a warning Clyde is a lot bigger than Bonnie.”

Axl shuddered in revulsion at the thought of the Anaconda sitting in its cage. “Home sounds good,” he croaked weakly.  “I got you this earlier.”

Slash accepted the small package and quickly opened it, laughing gleefully when the small snake carving appeared. “This is so cute; hey doesn’t this look like Clyde?” He cooed, holding the carving up to the light. “Aww, thanks Gyp.”

The redhead stared at him with fond exasperation, deciding to let the nickname slide. “You and your fucking snakes.”

\-----------------------

Steven jumped nervously when the front door slammed. “I’m home Izzy and you’d better not be.” The redhead froze when he saw the drummer sitting there. “Oh hey, where’s Izzy?”

“U-upstairs.” He stuttered, eyes widening as Axl approached him, shit, was he mad about last night?

“Relax, I’m not gonna eat ya.” He murmured, holding out a white bag in offering.

Stevie’s hands shook as he snatched the bag, peering quickly inside before a grin lit up his face. “Oh cool, cake!”

“I’m sorry for all the shouting last night.” Axl said, smiling as he watched the drummer dig into the bag.

The blonde waved it off, “It’s ok, no biggie, hey is this red velvet?”

“Red Velvet? Sweet.” Slash commented as he entered the room and purposely brushed past Axl, “Can I have some, Popcorn?”

Axl glared at Slash who was dutifully avoiding his gaze, he’d get him for that later.

Steven grinned sweetly up at him, “Yeah, there’s a whole cake in here.”

“Really Stevie? You sold out for cake?” Izzy asked, as he walked down the stairs with a grace he always seemed to posses. “Here I thought I could count on you.”

Steven shrugged, “Its _Red Velvet_ cake. From my favorite bakery too”

“A whole cake? Your methods have improved.” Izzy drawled as he threw a casual arm over Axl’s shoulder. “That’s a nice bruise you got there.”

“Your boyfriend started it.” He said almost petulantly.

“He does have quite the temper.”

“He’s an asshole.”

“So are you.”

“Yeah, but I’m adorable.” The vibrations of Izzy’s laugh echoed through him.

“So, you fixed your little obsession?”

“Can’t beat ‘em, then join ‘em,” he replied, raising an eyebrow at Steven who was trying to snort icing. Despite popular beliefs, the members of Gn’R were actually twelve.

“What obsession?” Slash asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at the two who had started to giggle uncontrollably.

“Ask Axl to explain it later.” Izzy offered, walking over to join the cake snorting “fun”.

“We’re never talking about it, ever.”

Slash nodded, which just meant he accepted the challenge. He’d figure out what all the ‘obsession’ fuss was about soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been done.  
> Shall I add an epilogue though, where Slash finally gives Axl what he promised? :D hehehehe  
> So, Axl actually slept over at Slash's house once and had one of his snakes staring him down while he slept lol. here's the link to that:  
> http://www.reptilesmagazine.com/Reptile-Experts/Interviews/Slash-Guns-Roses/  
> It's hilarious.


End file.
